Parting
by Shotzette
Summary: Goodbyes are hell


"The Parting"  
  
By Shotzette  
Rated PG  
  
This is a work of fan fiction only. It was not written for profit and is not intended to infringe upon any coprights of Paramount, ABC, or anyone.  
  
Tom Czinski blew into his cupped hands in a fruitless attempt to warm himself in the cold January air. Milwaukee in the dead of winter. How the hell did he let his grandfather talk him into driving him here on a day so bitterly cold? He grinned as he answered his own question. Nobody, but nobody said no to Grandpa. Ever. It was like some kind of law.  
  
His heart twisted as he saw the once strong and vital man, now stooped and wizened, standing by the newly set monument. Gramps had been there for nearly forty five minutes, his head bowed, as if in prayer, in the frigid cemetary. His health had plummetted since he'd read her obituary four months earlier. Only double pneumonia had kept him from her funeral.  
  
It was cold. Too damn cold for an eighty two year old man in poor health. Taking a deep breath, Tom walked towards the gravesite and mentally prepared for battle. "Gramps?" No response. A little louder. "Gramps?"  
  
His grandfather glanced at him with reddened eyes, then went back to staring at the headstone.  
  
"Gramps, it's freezing out here. I need to take you home."  
  
"It's a retirement community. Why the hell do people think I should call it home?"  
  
"Grandpa, Pfister Acres is the nicest long term care facility in Wisconsin. You're the one who didn't want to leave Milwaukee after Grandma died."  
  
"I know. And I ain't complaining. You and your mom have done a great job of taking care of me. It's just not a home, is all."  
  
"You could always move to Miami and stay near Mom. Or, move to California to be near me and Jessica." Fear clutched Tom's stomach as his grandfather grew suddenly pale in front of his eyes. "Gramps?"  
  
The old man waved off Tom's hand, as a rheumy cough escaped him. "I'm fine," he croaked. "The last time I saw Laverne was in California," he elaborated.  
  
Tom glanced at the monument. Laverne Marie DeFazio 1940-2022. "I thought you went to high school with her here in Milwaukee?"  
  
Impatience crossed the old man's face. "Yes, that's where I met her, but it wasn't the last time I saw her. Kids today, you should all pay attention more. Me and Laverne, the last of the class of '58." A bitter laugh escaped him. "I guess it's just me now. It's hell outliving everyone, Tom. Trust me, you might want to reconsider being a vegetarian. Longevity ain't what it's cracked up to be."  
  
"Gramps..."  
  
"Laverne was great. A terrific dancer and an incredible kisser. Had "L"s sewn on everything she wore, from her sweaters to her underwear."  
  
"Gramps..."  
  
"We were each other's firsts."  
  
"Gramps!" Tom wasn't naive. He knew that there were probably many women in his grandfather's life before he married his grandmother. He just didn't want to hear the details.  
  
"Don't *Gramps* me!" He said with sudden vehemence. "Do you think your generation invented sex? Or were the first to enjoy it? I could tell you some stories..."  
  
"I know you could, but please don't."  
  
"You don't know what it was like back then. Sex, or as we used to refer to it, *vodey-oh-doe-ing*--"  
  
"You're kidding? You used to call it that?"  
  
"Yes. Sex wasn't something you said in polite company. Now as I was saying... Sex was a big deal back then. People just didn't jump in the sack all willy nilly like they do today. Especially in Wisconsin. Especially if you was a nice girl, which Laverne was. It was a gift, something very special. Y'know, I've been with a lot of women in my life-- take your fingers out of your ears and stop humming, damnit!! But only four women were ever really special to me. Laverne was one of them, second only to your grandmother, God rest her soul..."  
  
"Did Laverne know Grandma?"  
  
"No! I didn't even meet Grandma until the late sixties, and me and Laverne had parted ways by then. I sort of prayed they'd never meet. It would have been too painful for both of them."  
  
"Why?" The second the question was out of his mouth, Tom regretted it. The look on his grandfather's face said it all.  
  
"As I said, the last time I saw Laverne was in California. Your Grandma and me had gone through some rough times, and I was out of town on business. I ran into Laverne. One thing led to another..." his coughing fit fortuitously cut off the sentence.  
  
"Grandma found out?"  
  
"No. And God forgive me, it's the only secret I ever kept from her."  
  
Tom glared at the headstone for a moment, before turning back to his grandfather. "You never saw her after that?"  
  
"No. Laverne, for all of her talk and all of her fire, simply wasn't that kind of girl. She was the marrying kind of girl, not a homewrecker. One night she later regretted didn't change that. You wouldn't understand."  
  
"I guess not.  
  
"She was the smart one back then. I was ready to throw away my marriage of four years away and start a new life with her. She wouldn't hear of it. She told me that it was my choice if I left your Grandma, or not. But she made it very clear that she wouldn't be there for me if I did. So I stayed. And, thirty two years and three kids later, I know me and your Grandma made the right choice."  
  
A cold wind blew Tom's California-weight coat apart, dragging him back to the here and now. "We should go back, Gramps. Your doctors didn't want to let me take you out on a day like this. I can only imagine what they're going to say if you tell them I let you stand outside in the cold for an hour."  
  
"Hey, I don't tell them about the gumdrops and cigars you give me either."  
  
"Thanks for not ratting me out, Gramps." Tom turned back towards the car, and waited for his grandfather to follow.  
  
"Goodbye, Laverne," the old man who was once known as "The Fonz" whispered, as he pulled his coat more tightly around his frame to keep out the encroaching cold.  
  
FIN 


End file.
